Cause and Consequence
by Ofpaintedflowers
Summary: Tom Riddle had never needed friends. Until he met her. She who was like him. And she was his. Of course, the world would learn just what happened when someone ruined what was his. One-shot.


**This is a little something I ended up writing whilst trying to overcome my writers block for my other two stories. It is a one shot. Any and all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

Tom Riddle had had never been one to play with the other children at the orphanage. He always sat on the airlines, watching with serious dark blue eyes. The other children were more than happy to leave him alone, because weird things happened around Tom.

But Tom had always been weird. He had been a very quiet baby, hardly ever crying. Staff at the orphanage could hardly remember a time where Tom had cried. He had never cried for food, or for a nappy change. Even as he got older, and had suffered the scrapes and bruising of an uncoordinated child learning how to walk, he hasn't once cried. When the other children had bullied him, there hadn't been a single tear in Tom's eyes. If Tom had ever had a nightmare, the staff never knew about it. For all intents and purposes, Tom was a perfect child.

There was just something _wrong_ with him. If Tom didn't get his own way, weird things would happen. There had been an occasion where all the glass had shattered I just after someone had told Tom no. No one could remember why he had gotten angry, what they had denied him, but everything shattered.

Or when he spoke to snakes. There was more than one occasion where a child or a staff member had found Tom sat in the sparse yard, hissing in a strange voice to the creatures. And it always seemed like they understood him.

No, Tom was certainly an unusual boy, and he kept his distance, but that suited everyone just fine. It suited Tom just fine.

Until _she_ arrived.

She had brown hair that escaped every confinement and seemed to defy gravity, random curls sticking every which way. There was a lot of that hair. She had brown eyes, that seemed to be just as plain as the colour of her hair. She was small, Tom's age, and quiet. She didn't speak to anybody, but her eyes betrayed a deep seated sadness and hurt.

The other children treated her in a similar fashion to Tom. There weren't as many cruel remarks or taunts, but they did leave her well enough alone. Which appeared to suit her just fine. She was always carrying around a tatty old book that looked as though it had seen years of use in one hand, a stuffed wolf in the other.

For all her apparent averageness, her clothes set her apart. She had been abandoned, left on the orphanage doorstep, with that book, that stuffed animal and a suitcase. And for all the tattiness of the book and the toy, her clothes were anything but. The dresses looked to be of a fine quality, in a variety of different colours, all fitting her just right. It was obvious the clothes had been made for her, and whilst the Orphanage Matron had wanted to share the dresses with the other young girls, it was soon apparent that they just wouldn't fit.

And the Matron definitely did not want to spend all her time trying to alter the garments.

It was the first time Tom had taken an interest in another child. He spent several days watching her, something akin to curiosity in his eyes.

She cried a lot. Not loud, attention seeking wails, but quiet tears that fell down her face. She never drew attention when she was distressed. She held the toy close, the book always in a tight grip. She never really spoke, followed instructions without question, never made a fuss. Tom was intrigued.

He never spoke to her the first few weeks she was there. Didn't feel the need nor the want to. He was content just watching from afar. If he had been older, he would have recognised his reluctance to speak to her as fear of her turning her nose up at him as the other kids did. If he had been older, he would have realised he was waiting for her to be accepted by the other children, to turn just as horrible and rude as the rest. Of course she never did. And, he never realised his reluctance to talk to her was an act of self preservation. He just knew he didn't want to talk to her.

Tom kept himself so secluded from everyone, he never actually knew the girls name. But he continued to watch her, wondering why she never joined in when the other children played games. He could admit that he was rather grateful she wasn't a giggling, squealing girly type, but it confused him as to why no one included her. She was one of them after all. She didn't make weird things happen.

Then, one day she did.

As he got older and remembered that day, Tom realised she must have thought she was alone. The little girl with the wild hair and the brown eyes obviously hadn't realised he had been watching her, observing her as he had every day for nearly two months.

He had come to learn that she only spoke when directly spoken to, she never questioned anything, and she was intensely private. He learnt that she did not like sharing, the only time she had ever kicked a fuss was when someone had tried to take her ratty stuffed toy, but she also didn't mind watching the younger children.

Tom also learnt that she loved the outdoors. It was when she was outdoors that he saw her do odd things. A small flower that was just beginning to bloom opened and closed it's petals. A flower that was wilting, he watched as she did something to liven it up again. Small animals seemed to like her, and he often found a bird cautiously making it's way towards her.

He never interfered or let her know he knew. That he was the same. Not until he saw a snake making it's way across the sparse grass. He realised she must have seen it, he saw her entire body stiffen. If it had been anyone else, Tom didn't think he would have stepped in. But this girl was weird, and like him, and Tom realised that he had a chance of not being alone any more. So he did step in, hissing in that weird voice that snakes seemed to understand but no one else could. The snake seemed put out, slightly offended that Tom had thought he was going to attack the strange girl.

He liked the smell of her, the snake had hissed, in a way that implied it was indeed sulking. Tom hadn't replied, turning to look at the girl, part of him scared that she would be terrified.

Indeed, she was slightly pale, but she looked fascinated.

"You can talk to snakes?" She had asked, her voice quiet but full of wonder. Tom had nodded stiffly.

"That's amazing." It had come out on a breath, and she held a hand out to the small, brown snake that had stayed. The snake hissed, and coiled itself on her hand, tongue flicking out to touch her skin. The girl giggled. Tom stood, eyes widening slightly in shock. He had remembered the first time he had spoken to a snake. Someone had screamed, and he had been told off by one of the Matron's, who had made it abundantly clear that what he had done was abnormal and he was never to do it again. Speaking to snakes was wrong.

Tom hadn't listened to her, but he had made sure he only ever spoke to snakes when he was alone. It was his special ability and he was secretly proud of it. He felt a small measure of warmth towards the girl and pride that at the amazement she had shown.

"He thinks you smell nice." Tom told her quietly, and the girl rewarded him with a smile. Tom had been slightly taken aback, caught unaware by her friendliness.

"Well, he's a very handsome snake." She responded, one hand gently stroking the snake's scales. Tom gave her a tentative smile. The snake was making it's way up her arm, gently draping itself around her neck. The girl didn't seem to mind, letting it get comfortable.

"My name is Tom. Tom Riddle." Tom held his hand out, and the girl looked at him wide eyed.

"I'm Pandora. Pandora Collins." She replied, taking his hand. She smiled at him, and Tom found himself smiling back. It was the start of a long friendship.

The years passed quickly after that, and Tom found himself grateful for having a friend. It meant that he wasn't always alone, and he had someone to talk to. He never realised that he had been missing anything, so used to not having it. The snake that had been attracted to Pandora had stayed, and Pandora had named him Nagaina. Tom had smiled at the name, and asked if it hadn't sounded too feminine. Pandora had snorted and told Tom to stop being silly. The newly named Nagaina had agreed, and told Tom in no uncertain terms, that he was already fond of his new name and believed it suited him rather well.

Tom had dropped the topic shortly after, but found himself unable to stop smiling. He was unused to feeling so happy, but after experiencing friendship, and the devotion that came with it, he found himself unwilling to give it up.

Four years later, Tom's feelings remained the same. After he and Pandora had fell into a familiar friendship, both relying on the other for nearly everything, he had come to the conclusion that Pandora was his, and nobody would take her away. He doubted anybody would be worthy enough anyway. Nagaina had stuck around, and Pandora had taken to wearing clothes with large pockets for Nagaina to hide in. When they were alone, Nagaina preferred draping himself around Pandora's neck, or coiling himself around her arm.

Neither child was overly surprised when they were shown into a room where an middle-aged looking man with blue eyes and a short auburn beard was waiting. Tom believed the man to be a doctor of some kind. He knew well enough what people thought of him, and whereas if he hadn't had anyone, he believed their attitude would have affected him rather badly, he found himself lucky enough to have Pandora, who was like his own personal ray of sunshine.

But it still hurt that they had gotten a doctor to come out to him. Obviously they were hoping the doctor would take him away. And worse, they had Pandora there. They were trying to have his Pandora taken away as well. Well, they might be able to do odd things, and they might be different from the other kids, but there was nothing wrong with them and Tom refused to be sent to a hospital of some kind.

He said as much. The man had smiled and Tom grimaced. He wasn't sure he liked this man, who called himself Professor Dumbledore. He grew more and more incredulous as this Professor continued talking, mentioning magic of all things. Tom snorted. He wasn't gullible by a long shot. The old crackpot sounded like he belonged in a loony bin.

Pandora turned to him, eyes wide with excitement and Tom felt a small spear of hate towards the man for filling her head with nonsense. He was about to tell the man to leave, that they weren't going to any hospital, and that if he really thought magic was real, then he should find other gullible children to convince. After all, the orphanage wasn't in short supply of kids who would believe such idiocy.

But then Pandora asked the Professor to prove it. And with an indulgent smile, the man froze his glass of water with a flick of a thin stick. Tom's eyes narrowed. Pandora looked sceptical still. Their expressions were obvious, because Professor Dumbledore chuckled softly, and with another flick of that stick, the frozen glass of water was a tea cup.

Even Tom had to admit it seemed like magic. He couldn't see how it was done otherwise.

And Pandora, who hardly spoke to anyone but him, began to ask the man a million questions. The man seemed delighted by such an inquisitive mind, and answered all of them as well as he could. Tom scowled slightly. He wasn't sure he liked Pandora getting information from someone else, even if he didn't know magic and the man was a Professor. If he had his way, Pandora would only ever need him.

There would come a time when Tom would wonder if he was in love with his childhood friend. He hated anyone else being near her, didn't like anyone who wasn't him touching her. He especially hated any attention she got from boys. But he'd eventually decide that he wasn't in love with her, but saw Pandora as his. Simply his. His to protect. His to guide. He would decide who was good enough for her. Who could look after as adequately as he could.

At the moment, such thoughts where beyond him. He just knew he didn't much care for Pandora relying on someone else, or like the idea of anyone that wasn't him getting her undivided attention. It was then he vowed to learn everything he could about magic. They could learn it together and he could help her. He didn't underestimate Pandora. He knew she was just as smart as he was.

Tom really wanted to tell the old man to go away, but the joy in Pandora's eyes prevented him from doing so. He couldn't do anything that would take away her happiness. He was reluctant to, but he managed to resign himself to the idea of having to share her. His one consoling thought was that they would at least be together at school.

He listened with half an ear as Professor Dumbledore spoke, taking note that they would be going to a weird place called Diagon Alley, where they would meet a host family who would help assimilate them to magical life. As they were orphans, Dumbledore continued, the school had a small fund set aside to pay for their uniforms and equipment they needed. All of which could be found in this Diagon Alley. He signed internally, wondering if this could just be an elaborate prank being pulled at their expense.

In all honesty, being away from the orphanage nine months out of the year sounded heavenly and he secretly hoped it wasn't a prank. He would find out in a weeks time, when Dumbledore came to take them to meet the Potter's, the family he said would be there to answer any questions they had and begin their introduction to the magical world. He could see the relief in Pandora s eyes that she wouldn't be entering a new world entirely ignorant, and Tom could privately admit he felt the same. If this was real, and the things he and Pandora could do had a real explanation, Tom knew he would feel relieved.

After Dumbledore left, Pandora dragged Tom outside, to sit under a sparse, half dead tree none of the other children ventured close to. She let Nagaina out of her pocket, fingers gently smoothing along the grass snakes scales.

"Do you suppose it's all true, Tom?" she asked, and Tom could here the hope warring with doubt in her voice. He smiled a little, glad that his friend wasn't completely sold just yet.

"It might be, it all seems a bit too elaborate for a prank." He mused. Pandora bit her lip.

"Do you think I could take Nagaina with me?" she asked. Tom nodded. Even if they had to hide the small grass snake, Nagaina would be coming with them. Tom didn't think the snake would be able to stay near the orphanage without risk of being hurt, or worse, otherwise.

"Of course. Even if we aren't allowed, we'll bring him along. He could hide on the grounds or in our pockets like normal." He said. Pandora nodded, smiling. The rest of the afternoon was spent talking about how wonderful it would be to learn properly, and to learn magic. And how much of a relief it would be to be free of the orphanage for the best part of the year. They spent the day fantasizing about what the magical world would be like, and the things they would learn.

When Pandora mentioned making other friends, Tom scowled inwardly. As far as he was concerned, he was the only friend Pandora needed. She was kind and naive and he was sure she would get hurt. He supposed it didn't matter too much. They would be at school together, he was sure he would be able to keep everyone else away from her. He would make sure they appreciated that she was his. He kept quiet on the subject, letting Pandora go on about what it would be like to have female friends as well, his inward scowl threatening to make an appearance.

"You're the only friend I need." He muttered sullenly. She smiled at him, quick to reassure him that no one could replace him as he was her best friend. It didn't help at all, because she didn't say he was the only friend she needed, and he didn't want her to want other friends. She continued talking, excitement oozing from her and Tom felt he could let the friend thing to for now. After all, he still had close to a month to convince her that she didn't have to have other friends.

* * *

A week later it was confirmed. Magic was very much real, and Tom couldn't help but stare in wonder at the shops and the people and everything surrounding him. He knew his expression likely matched Pandora's, but for once, he didn't care. It was real. He was special. He would be learning about magic. He could feel the happiness bubbling up inside him, and he looked around, eyes eagerly drinking everything in, trying to retain as much as he could about this wonderful new place. Pandora was bouncing as she walked, and Tom knew she was eager to go and explore everything. He didn't blame her, he was as well.

Dumbledore led them down the street, pointing out the shops and explaining what each one sold. Tom didn't feel the same distrust or dislike of the man this time around. He supposed it was because the Professor had told the truth, and instead of treating their awe as childish, he seemed genuinely happy to explain everything he knew about everything they saw. Tom was willing to appreciate someone who seemed genuinely thrilled to teach him something, and not see it as burdensome.

The man led them towards a tall, impressive building that looked to be made entirely of marble. Dumbledore introduced the building as Gringotts, the wizarding bank. He explained that it was run entirely by Goblins, informing them that there was no one more trustworthy to protect their gold. He also told them that, as orphans, (and here, Tom scowled, not liking the idea that anyone knew he was an orphan), the school had opened up an account for them each, where they had a small allowance with which they could purchase all their school equipment. Dumbledore explained that each year, their vaults would be refilled. Tom vowed to start saving some of the money separately, just in case.

Pandora seemed more excited about seeing new things and being able to learn about them than thinking about money. Tom didn't blame her, and he sort of envied her childish enthusiasm, though he was grateful for the ability to think ahead and plan for their future.

The professor led them into the building, teaching them about wizarding currency. Tom listened carefully, his mind processing the information for a later date. He took stock of the Goblins, mean looking creatures, and when one based his teeth, he noticed they were sharp and pointed, like fangs. Tom didn't think he would want to anger one of them, if they were anything like the Goblins in Pandora's fairy tale book, they were ruthless and very good blacksmiths. And very fond of gold.

He had been so busy observing, that he missed what Dumbledore said to one of the Goblins. The creature nodded, and disappeared for a few minutes before returning with a Goblin who looked much older.

"The keys are ready." The older Goblin said, his voice raspy as though he was suffering a very bad cold. Tom didn't catch their names, but didn't think they were all that important in the grand scheme of things. Maybe one day he would learn them, if he ever had serious need of them. He looked at Pandora, who seemed thrilled to be handed a small, delicately wrought golden key. She made her pleasure known by thanking the Goblins, eyes bright with excitement. The Goblins appeared slightly taken aback, then gave feral grins. Dumbledore appeared amused. Tom added his thanks, though more quiet than his only friend.

They didn't take much notice, and Tom found he didn't care much either way. Pandora had a way with things that weren't human, and he didn't begrudge her that gift when his own was far more helpful. A third Goblin appeared and led the three to a rickety looking cart, and gestured for them to get on. Dumbledore waited for the children to get on, before seating himself.

The cart was fast and Tom was pretty sure he would throw up. Pandora looked a little green as well. Dumbledore looked excited. The cart took a deep dip, before going around a sharp corner and Tom felt his stomach lurch. He wasn't sure what he made of the contraption he was currently on. They finally stopped, and the Goblins asked for their keys. Both Pandora and Tom handed over their keys silently, and the hunched creature took them both. He opened one vault right in front of them, gesturing for Pandora to enter.

Tom could see a small, but respectable amount of gold in a pile, and he guessed there would be more than enough to last the year. He wondered if there would be enough to get new shoes, both his and Pandora's were worn down on the sole, and he was pretty sure Pandora's shoes had at least one hole in. Feeling embarrassed and self conscious, Tom decided to ask the Professor if they would be able to buy other necessities with the money, other than school supplies. Dumbledore replied in the affirmative.

"Your situation was taken into account. The funds the school has cover the costs for students who need it most. Families that struggle are given a small stipend to spend on school supplies, or the supplies are purchased for them. However, there is a special allowance for students without families. The vaults are set up and you are given an allowance to cover the costs of your supplies, school uniforms, with extra in case anything else is needed. Should you require weekend wear, or something to occupy your time, there should be enough." Dumbledore smiled. "But, this money does have to last you a year. As I said previously, the vault will be refilled by the end of the school year. After your school career has ended, you can choose to keep these vaults, or open new ones. The keys you have mean only you and the Goblins can enter the vault." He paused, as if thinking if there was anything else he needed to mention.

"As you are currently underage, and live in an orphanage, all post from the bank will be sent to your magical guardian, who you shall be meeting this afternoon. All letters for you will be assessed to you and will not be opened by anyone but yourselves. If they believe you have received something of importance, or you get a letter from the bank, they will come and collect you to help you sort the matter out. They will also keep you updated on all other news. Once a week, you will meet with your guardian and they will answer any questions, soothe any worries and teach you about Magical Britain. You can write them whenever you wish to. They are there to help and support you until you are of age."

With a final nod, the group of three continued with their day. The Goblins took Tom to his vault, where he saw the exact same amount of gold in his as there was in Pandora's. They continued on and brought there school supplies, Pandora becoming besotted with the apothecary, wanting to examine all the ingredients, and when they entered Flourish and Blotts, Tom found himself privately delighted at the sight of the books. Along with their required school books, Tom got himself Hogwarts: A History, planning to read it in private with Pandora.

They went to an old, run down pub (the same one they had entered through) called The Leaky Cauldron where Tom got himself and Pandora a beef stew, justifying the purchase by saying both he and Pandora will probably miss dinner by the time they got back to the orphanage. The stew arrived, steaming hot and packed with potatoes and vegetable and meat and a warm bread roll on the side.

It was halfway through their meal when an older couple arrived, greeting Dumbledore as of they were old friends, and introducing themselves as Henry Potter and his wife, Elizabeth Potter. The Potter's sat down at the table and spoke to Dumbledore whilst Tom and Pandora finished their food. Tom noticed Pandora rushing, excited at the prospect of getting new information and learning more about the world they would be joining.

The conversation continued, with Pandora, who had finished her food, asking questions so fast Tom struggled to keep up. He listened quietly, pleased to hear the answers were detailed. He didn't like the look on the Potter's faces, he thought it looked like they were amused, and their tone sounded as if they believed they were pacifying a toddler. He scowled slightly, growing annoyed, but keeping silent, aware that he would have to deal with the couple for a few years yet. The meeting ended, with Mr Potter letting them know that he would be coming to pick them up from the orphanage in a weeks time, and Mrs Potter informing them that the next time they meet, she would introduce them to her son, Fleamont, a young man a couple of years out of Hogwarts, and 'an Auror, such a brave boy.' Tom smiled politely, a small thin smile that didn't reach his eyes, whilst Pandora said good bye enthusiastically. He didn't like it. Not one bit. Everyone was endearing themselves to _his_ friend. They treated them like children (though he grudgingly admitted Dumbledore didn't) and Pandora soaked up their attention like a sponge.

As they left, he scowled. Pandora was _his_ friend, and his alone.

* * *

Their first year of Hogwarts sped by, and as Tom reflected upon the last nine months, he wasn't sure what to think. He had hidden his orphan status from the start, as had Pandora, neither of them secure enough in admitting they didn't know anything about their heritage. They had kept to themselves on the train, Pandora unusually quiet. During the summer, and between their lessons with the Potter's, Tom had made her promise that he would always be her best and first friend. He didn't want to lose her and didn't think she'd need other people. Besides, they would be at Hogwarts together, so he would be able to look after her.

Then they had got to Hogwarts and had been sorted. Pandora's name had been called before Tom's, and she had slowly made her way up to the stool and the dirty old hat and Professor Dumbledore. The hat sat on her head for a few minutes, before calling out Hufflepuff. Pandora's eyes had widened, and she shot Tom a worried look as she made her way over to the black and yellow cluster of clapping students. Tom had given her a reassuring smile, but inside was worried and angry.

He wouldn't be going to Hufflepuff he knew. He had read about the houses. Hufflepuff was the house for the kind people, those who were loyal and quietly clever and unassuming. The house that welcomed anyone and everyone and were friends with any who expressed an interest in friendship. Tom knew that wasn't him. He wouldn't be going to Hufflepuff, not even if he begged.

As Dumbledore came closer to calling his name, Tom straightened his spine. So he wouldn't be in the same house as Pandora, but it wasn't a huge deal. She was still his and he could still keep her close. It didn't really matter. A silly house name and stupid colours wouldn't separate them, not for the world.

His name was called, and the hat had barely touched his head before calling Slytherin. He made his way over to the group of politely clapping students, watching Pandora out of the corner of his eye. She looked slightly crestfallen, but there was nothing Tom could do about it. It was his first fleeting thought of hate towards the House system at Hogwarts for separating him from Pandora. Whilst he believed that she actually suited Hufflepuff, he didn't think she would flourish there without him. She needed him, needed him to help her grow. Tom doubted anyone in Hufflepuff would nourish her potential like he would.

He sat down at the Slytherin table, and watched in bored fascination as the headmaster (Tom had already decided Dipped was an idiot), waffles on. His silent amazement barely showed on his face when his food materialised in front of him, filling the table with pies and roasts and weird jellied meats.

And the year progressed. Tom found himself excelling under the attention and praise of his professors, though if Dumbledore appeared to have cooled towards him slightly, Tom didn't give it much thought. He had made acquaintances in a blonde Slytherin named Abraxas Malfoy and a dark haired, skinny boy called Cantankerus Nott. He noticed Pandora had made a few friends, an auburn haired boy called Alastor and a red headed girl called Persephone. He dominated her evenings, dragging her to the library with him, but she never seemed to mind, glad to have him around. She was always eager to make him happy, and Tom was glad that Hogwarts hadn't changed that.

Nagaina preferred to sleep in a small crook in the Hufflepuff common rooms, near a fireplace, and would slither of outside during the day, content to explore.

That first year at Hogwarts was normal, though exciting. Christmas came, and he was surprised to receive a present from the Potter's. A scarf, warm and thick and soft, in a rich dark green with an ornate letter S knitted into the corner. When asked who he had received it from, Tom told Malfoy and Nott. Both boys looked slightly surprised that he knew them.

Malfoy sneered ever so slightly.

"Father said the Potter's used to be a really well respected family, but Henry Potter has been proposing some really stupid ideas." He spoke quietly, as if telling Tom a well kept secret. "Apparently Henry Potter is pro-muggles." Nott let out a derisive snort.

"Muggles are worthless. They wouldn't be able to survive knowing about magic." He snapped. "Complete idiots, and their methods of dealing with those they deem unordinary are barbaric."

Tom nodded absently, the first niggling of wonder about his own heritage entering his mind. He wondered if there was a way to find out, and vowed to look in the library when he could.

After the first year of Hogwarts ended, the summer flew by. He questioned the Potter's on ways of finding out who his parents where. The Potter's said they weren't sure, but did say the orphanage may know a bit more. When Tom asked about his parents, they admitted they didn't know his mother's name, but that she had names him after his father and his mother's father.

It was a starting point. During the summer, he went down to the local library and began looking for any information on any Tom Riddles' or Marvolos' that may have lived in the area when he was born. Pandora helped him look, keeping him occupied when every visit yelled no results. It was on his next visit to the Potter's that he had a bit of a break through.

The Potter's had heard of a Marvolo before. He was from a very old family, and had two children, Morfin and Merope Gaunt. Merope hadn't been heard from in years, having caused quite a scandal when she had run off with a muggle. Unfortunately, the Potter's had no idea where they had lived, or if they still resided in the same area.

Tom didn't care. He had another starting point. The side of his family he cared about. He wasn't a muggleborn, but a half blood, descended from a prominent wizard family. He could see the wistful look in Pandora's eyes, but when he mentioned looking for her family, she shut him off sharply.

The 'No' she gave was sharp and short. Her eyes had darkened, and she frowned. She didn't care to know about them, she informed him darkly and said no more. Tom didn't press her, but he saw something in her that day that made him realise what her potential could be if nurtured in the right direction. Tom promised he would do just that.

* * *

The next five years passed quickly. Being a Slytherin had it's perks, and when he revealed he was the grandson of Marvolo Gaunt, the respect he garnered was instantaneous. He was from one of the oldest families around, descended from Salazar Slytherin himself. His ability to speak to snakes was a gift from the greatest Hogwarts founder himself. Tom spent time researching Salazar Slytherin and discovering the secrets the man hid in the castle. He taught everything he knew to Pandora, watched her grow into a powerful young witch.

He ignored the sneers from his small group of followers, when they spoke about her blood status with disgust, he silenced them. He practiced, and he taught himself and he learned everything it could.

It all paid off by his sixth year. He had found the answer to all his questions. A piece of magic that few ever spoke about, and even less had ever wrote about. And he had discovered secrets that people had only ever believed to be a myth. He had been keeping a journal, detailing everything he knew about his classmates, and he had picked one unfortunate witch to be his test. Early one morning, he disappeared into one of the girls bathrooms, and hissed the language of his ancestor and the species that represented his house so well. The sinks began to move, groaning and creaking from years of disuse, and he disappeared down the hole.

By the end of that day, he was successful. Myrtle Warren, a fifth year muggleborn, was dead, and Tom was on his journey to immortality. This, he would keep secret. This, he would hide from Pandora. As much potential she had, and he had already decided she would be his queen, she was still too kind and too good. He hid the diary in his trunk, only bringing it out when he was on his own, feeding it memories that he wanted to keep safe.

The half giant oaf, Hagrid, had been expelled, Tom himself having caught him with the _monster_. Dumbledore knew. Dumbledore, the man who had introduced him to magic, had known that Tom hadn't been truthful. But he had never said anything, just provided more distance. More indifference. Tom fumed silently.

For some reason, the lessons with the Potter's had stopped. It had left Pandora devastated, she had come to think of them as family. But they had ceased contact, and their letters to them had returned unopened. Persephone and Alastor had comforted her, even though she had refused to tell them what was wrong. Tom could see Alastor had developed feelings for his friend, and though he wasn't happy about it, he let it be. The man would never have her. Tom didn't care much for the looks Pandora sent him either.

* * *

The year continued, passed them by, and their Seventh and final year at Hogwarts started. Tom continued to teach Pandora what he knew. Some magic scared her, he could see that. She had professed her hatred for mind magic, disliked the imperious curse and the feel of it. He could see that as he delved deeper into his path, his reason for living, she began to draw away. She started spending more time with Alastor Moody, both with heads bent and talking quietly. Tom wanted to know what they spoke about. He had seen them argue several times, in hushed whispers, and every so often they would glance his way.

Tom scowled. They argued about him. He could guess that Moody didn't like him and didn't wand Pandora near him, but he knew Pandora would never abandon him. But, he had decided, it was time to separate the two.

As much as he cared for Pandora, she would never willingly give up those she considered friends. He didn't like the idea of messing with her mind, and he hadn't had much practice with implanting memories, but he was good enough. He would feed her loyalty potions, to ensure she didn't stray. The imperious could be broken after all. It would be near impossible for her to resist the effects of the potions, or to realise what he had done. She adored him.

The fallout of potioning her was a bit of a let down. She had walked into the Great Hall at breakfast the morning after he had given her the potion and had completely ignored both Alastor and Persephone. The two looked bewildered. Alastor stood up, walked over to her and said something. Pandora had just continued eating her food, as though she hadn't heard him. Confused and more than a little upset, Alastor returned to Persephone. They spoke quietly, looking at Pandora in concern.

As the week continued, Pandora evaded both her old friends, choosing to sit alone in her classes and spend her free time with Tom. He could see suspicion mounting in Moody's eyes, and had smirked whenever the boy glanced at him. Everything was going perfectly. Pandora was his still, even if he had to use potions to make it so, he was on the way to gaining the knowledge and power he wanted and he had amassed an impressive following, with Malfoy and Nott at his side. He had even agreed to go over to Malfoys for the day during the Summer holidays. He was prefect, and he was sure he would be head boy next year. Dippet, for all the idiot he was, was actually fond of Tom and he used it to his advantage.

Of course, good things couldn't last. Pandora was a target for most Slytherin students, and the fact that she had never been alone was all that had kept her safe. Even Tom's influence didn't protect her, and Tom knew it. It was why he insisted that she be with him at all times. It was the only good thing about those friends of hers as well. Being an orphan and a muggleborn, there was plenty of disgust and loathing felt towards her. Tom didn't care much for it himself, rarely allowed his house to get him involved in such matters.

He never even saw the threat. It happened at the end of the school day, two weeks before the end of their last year at Hogwarts. He had been waiting for her in the Great Hall when she never showed. He had seen some of the smirks, the smug looks on several of his house-mates faces. A small flare of anger surged up inside him, and he stood. His face was calm, collected, poised. His eyes where cold and promised retribution if he found his friend in less than perfect condition.

And he had gone looking. He spent hours trying to find her, down by the Hufflepuff common rooms, the kitchens, the library. He checked toilets and the Prefect's bathroom. He went up near the Ravenclaw's tower, and ventured towards Gryffindor's common room. The Fat Lady had told him to get lost. He had glared at her and informed her he was looking for a Hufflepuff witch, Pandora.

That was when he found out where she was. The Fat Lady informed him that a friend of hers had heard whispers from the portraits about a group of boys who had taken a girl up the Astronomy Tower. The boys had come back down, but she hadn't. One of the portraits had gone off to find the Headmaster.

The fury that had been coursing through his veins turned to ice. He politely thanked the Fat Lady, who had smiled, called him a good boy for caring and said she hoped the girl was okay. Tom hoped she was okay himself. He headed for the Astronomy tower, pace so quick he was nearly running. When he got there, he saw Madame Lilliput coming down with a stretcher behind her.

Tom stood still, his already pale face rapidly turning white. Dumbledore and Dippet where coming down behind the stretcher, grave looks on their faces. Tom hurried forward.

"Pandora!"

It was, perhaps, the first time Tom had ever felt true fear. This, whatever had happened to Pandora, was in part, his fault. He could admit that. In his jealousy, he had isolated her, assuming that her association with him would keep her safe. He was respected and liked well enough. But it hadn't. He saw her hair, brown and bushy, a cloud around her face. A face that was too pale, and bruised.

His anger was building again as he took in the fresh purple bruises and the split lip and bloodied nose. He wasn't sure how he kept calm. He ran up to the stretcher, and despite Madame Lilliputs' protests, took her hand.

She was _cold_. Too cold. His Pandora was never cold, she had always been warm. Tom shrugged off his robes covered her. Her uniform was mussed, but it didn't look like they had touched her, not _like that_. Still, seeing the small tremors that racked her small body, and seeing the bruises, and the way her leg was bent at an odd angle, Tom knew what had happened. He had an idea who had done it.

He was scared, he knew. Terrified that she was gone, that they had done too much, that they had broken her mind. He doubted It, his Pandora was strong, but he just didn't know if she was _that_ strong.

Madame Lilliput was still protested his presence, unsure it would be good for the girl, he was of the same house as those barbarians that had done hurt her, he could have been one of the boys who had attacked her.

Tom waited, expecting to hear Dippet defend him. He was surprised, however, when it was Dumbledore who spoke up.

Dumbledore, who had cast him out. Who had stopped caring about him in any way, who had looked at him with cold blue eyes. Dumbledore who had turned the Potter's against both him and Pandora. Tom was sure of that. He hated the Potter's for listening, hated Dumbledore for not caring. He had never expected the man to stand up for him.

"Mr Riddle grew up with Miss Collins, Belinda." Dumbledore said softly. "They are the best of friends, I doubt he would have hurt her." Dumbledore paused, and Tom felt those blue eyes on him. He was still trying to get Pandora to wake, speaking softly, stroking her hair.

"In fact, I believe Mr Riddle incapable of harming Miss Collins at all."

Madame Lilliput nodded uneasily, still not convinced. But she did relent.

"Either way, Mr Riddle, I must insist you let me get your friend to the Hospital Wing. She needs attention, and I need to determine just how bad her injuries are and what exactly was done to her. Given the hour, you must return to your common room. You can visit her tomorrow, when I'm sure she will be more coherent."

Tom hid his scowl. He wanted to be with her tonight. He didn't want to leave her alone. But he could feel the eyes burning the back of his head, and so he stood. His posture was stiff. His mind was in turmoil.

"Please, make sure she's alright." He asked the mediwitch. He was horrified to hear his voice break, but ignored it. Lilliput looked slightly surprised, but nodded. She turned and disappeared, nearly running as she used magic to float the stretcher down to the Hospital Wing.

"If the culprits are of my house," Tom said, voice shaking. "You can be sure I will find out who they are, and I will let you know."

He was still struggling to stay calm, fear and guilt mixing with his anger. Dippet looked at him sadly, and nodded. Dumbledore stared at him, as if scrutinizing him. Tom though he saw a flash of pity and sadness in the old man's eyes, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to not speak.

He turned away, stalked off, leaving Albus Dumbledore stood, watching after him, what looked like regret and a hint of knowing in his eyes.

Tom strode towards the Slytherin common room with purpose. He would find out who had hurt Pandora. He realised that despite being well liked and respected by his classmates, they didn't care if they did something to anger him. They didn't fear his reaction. So Tom decided that they would respect him and follow him and not question him. And they would _fear_ him. They would fear the consequences if they angered him. If he decided he didn't like their actions. They would never dare to hurt anything that was his again. He would ensure that they understood his displeasure was to be feared.

When the door to the Slytherin common room opened, everyone fell silent. There was am icy chill that swept through the room, and the younger years couldn't help but shiver. Tom stepped through, tall and imposing, eyes surveying everyone where they stood or sat. He sneered when he spotted a few students lying on the floor. There was a change in him that made Abraxas Malfoy smirk. He had a feeling he knew what this was about.

Tom walked through the students, making his way towards the fireplace. Students stepped back, they could feel the power and the _anger_ rolling off him. He stopped, back to everyone, voice deceptively calm when he spoke.

"There was an incident earlier." He said. The first years stared, transfixed. "A sixth year Hufflepuff girl, by the name of Pandora Collins, was brutally attacked." He turned to face his crowd. He cocked his head to the side, eyes sweeping to the group of students who had, at dinner, looked like the cat that had gotten the cream. His lip curled slightly.

"It has been requested that I ask all students of Slytherin house if anyone had a hand in her attack. If you did, I suggest you come forward. The Headmaster has informed me that she was assaulted, in ways that should not be mentioned in polite company. Or around innocent ears."

He nearly snorted. He knew the younger students weren't entirely innocent, but he also knew they were still naive to the cruel world around them. The boys he had seen earlier exchanged looks. They didn't look particularly worried. One of them stepped forward.

"How was she assaulted?" He was a seventh year, one Tom didn't know by name. He rarely associated with the seventh years, none of whom where impressed by him much. Tom frowned. The boy had a lot of gall to ask that. To his left, Abraxas Malfoy cleared his throat.

Malfoy himself didn't care much for the muggleborn witch himself, preferring to think of her as a mudblood and someone not worth his time. He did, however, care about Tom. Tom who was a friend. And Tom cared a lot about the chit, and he reckoned he guessed where Tom was going with the conversation. He glanced at his friend, and leader, who gave him a small nod.

"I assume what our Prefect was trying to politely say, is that Miss Collins was sexually assaulted. I believe he preferred to not use such words in the company of children." His own voice was smooth, deep and rich. The youngsters amongst them gasped in horror, huddling together or behind older students, eyes darting about. Several of the older students, who had no care for mudbloods, also looked horrified.

"Malfoy would be correct. The Headmaster believes that she was ambushed by a group of boys, older students. The portraits in the area saw a group of them dragging her up the Astronomy Tower, where she was later found unconscious. She still hasn't awoken."

Tom was bluffing. The Headmaster had said no such thing. Tom wasn't sure he believed such a thing happened. But as far as he knew, she was still unconscious.

The boys from earlier looked disgusted. They spoke as one, five of them saying the exact same thing.

"I did no such thing. I wouldn't sully myself with a mudblood in such a crude way."

Tom smiled inwardly, delighted. This had been easier that he that thought it would be. He nodded sharply.

"Every one to their rooms. I don't want to see any of you for the rest of the night. I have some business with these... _boys._ " The last word came out as a sneer. Everybody in Slytherin knew Tom was fond of Pandora Collins. They pitied the young men who had hurt her, and not a single Slytherin hesitated to stay in the common room. Of course, Tom's inner circle, Malfoy, Nott, Lestrange, Rosier, Rowle and Dolohov stayed behind. Tom knew they would.

He faced the seventh years, face passive.

"What possessed you to attack Pandora Collins?" He asked quietly, moving to take a seat on a chair next to the fireplace. His followers stood behind him.

The boys in front of him scowled. One opened his mouth to answer, a look of disgust on his face.

"I would be careful how you speak." Tom's voice was like silk, soft and smooth, hiding his anger.

Rosier cast a silencing charm quietly. Tom glanced at him, eyebrow cocked in question.

"In case of eavesdroppers." He murmured in response. Tom nodded. He turned back to the offensive group before him.

"You may answer. Keep in mind what I said. And don't forget, Pandora is a very close friend of mine."

He smiled, a dangerous smile. The group before him scowled, not sensing the danger. After all, Tom was always polite and considerate. And Pandora Collins was just a little mudblood.

"We wanted to teach her a lesson. Walking around, acting like she belongs when she doesn't. She's just a filthy mudblood who doesn't deserve her magic. And the way she clung to you made us sick. You're too good for her and she needed to be taught a lesson. But we never touched her. We wouldn't sully ourselves like that."

Tom wasn't sure who spoke, but he didn't care either way. Over the years, there had been whispers of muggleborn not deserving magic because of their heritage. Tom could admit that he had developed a certain dislike for Muggles, not all, but the ones he had grown up with. The cruel children and the crueller adults. The adults, he freely admitted, he loathed. He was certain they were the reason why Nagaina had been found dead the summer previous, leaving Pandora devastated. The first seed of hatred towards the Pure-bloods took root in his mind.

He smiled at the boys in front of him, a cruel smile that didn't reach his eyes. He fingered his wand gently, caressing it as it seemed to vibrate in anticipation.

"Well then." His eyes glittered dangerously. The boys in front of him felt the first stirrings of fear.

"I guess it's time you know what happens to those who anger the Heir of Salazar Slytherin."

* * *

A week. It had been an entire weeks since Pandora had been attacked. A week since Slytherin house learned what happened to those who angered Tom. A week of pure hell.

The seventh years who had hurt Pandora weren't the same. They were subdued, shaky, flinched whenever someone came near them. They suffered tremors, and one would no longer speak. It was as of he had lost the ability to talk. Everyone around Tom spoke in hushed whispers, Abraxas and Nott reassuring Tom that his friend would be okay.

Tom wasn't convinced.

Everyday, he would be found in the hospital wing, sat next to Pandora, her hand clasped in his. Everyday he silently begged her to wake up. Moody and Persephone visited often, and while Tom and Moody exchanged dark looks, they both stayed quite, fearing being kicked out by they stern matron.

Even after Moody and Persephone left, Tom would stay. He would speak quietly, hoping there would be a change. There never usually was. Seeing her like this, unconscious and with fading bruises, always angered him. Each time he saw her, he felt that those who dared hurt her hadn't been punished enough. Pure-bloods and their stupid superiority, he would sneer to himself in the quiet of the hospital.

Of course, despite seeing her so broken, nothing would prepare him for when she woke up.

It was one of those rare days where he had been asked to stay behind after class. Slughorn was concerned. He had wanted to make sure Tom was okay, after all, he had seemed rather distracted lately. Tom had assured his professor that he was perfectly fine, just worried about his friend. The old coot had nodded sympathetically, told Tom that he hoped she would get better. After all, she was one of his best students. Tom had sneered slightly and stalked from the dungeons, his pace hurried, though not running.

As he approached the doors of the Hospital Wing, Tom could hear voices talking. Moody and Persephone where already there. Tom scowled, unhappy that the two still believed themselves to be Pandora's friends. When he walked through the doors, he stopped. He could feel something stuck in his throat, and a burning in his gut. Alastor Moody, sat on Pandora's hospital bed, his arm wrapped around her. Around _his_ Pandora. Fury didn't quite describe what he was feeling. And his Pandora was _letting_ the creep hold her. Persephone was sat on the bed next to them, holding Pandora's hand.

Tom wasn't sure he wanted to stay.

Of course, despite anger coursing through him, Tom still needed to be sure Pandora was okay. He started towards the bed, watching Pandora's face closely.

The moment she saw him, Tom recoiled. She looked at him, fear and hurt and horror and so much _fear_. She was _scared_ of him. More than scared, she was _terrified_. And Tom knew. He _knew_ what those idiots had done. He _knew_ just how deep their torture went. They had _twisted_ her memory of him, they had _turned his best friend against him._ Him, Tom Riddle.

There was nothing in the world that would save them now. Nothing that would stop his fury. Pandora had been his, only his and they had turned her away from him. Had made her hate him.

He didn't even stop to speak, didn't try to. He turned and fled, thoughts running. He would make them pay. He would teach them what happened to those that hurt him, those that missed of him, Tom Riddle, heir of the Greatest Hogwarts Founder, Salazar Slytherin. Him, Tom Riddle, one of the Greatest wizards of his time. He, who would one day be the Greatest Dark Lord the world had ever seen. Him, Lord Voldemort.

He would cultivate them, sway the Pure-bloods to him, use their own prejudice and hate against them. He didn't care about Muggles, didn't care about blood status. He would make those lofty Pure-bloods bow down to him, a mere half blood. He would love forever, a constant reminder. The Pure-bloods would rue the day they had decided they were better than everyone else. He would make sure of it. They would tremble before him, all who opposed him, all who had offended him, or posed a threat to him. He would make them all pay.

And Pandora? His Pandora? Well, he would make sure _no one,_ and he meant no one, would ever harm her again.

After all, one couldn't hurt one who would cease to exist.


End file.
